


How To Say Fuck Off In Flower

by juiceboxjellyfish



Series: Carry On Countdown 2017 [9]
Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Carry On Countdown (Simon Snow), First Meeting, Flower Language, Flowers, Getting Together, M/M, Meet-Cute, Normal AU, SnowBaz, flower shop au, how to say fuck off with flowers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 00:33:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12900171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juiceboxjellyfish/pseuds/juiceboxjellyfish
Summary: Simon runs a small flower shop that doesn't get a lot of customers. One day, Baz shows up with a request that's a bit unusual. He certainly makes an impression.





	How To Say Fuck Off In Flower

SIMON

My flower shop doesn’t get a lot of customers. The few regulars I have are old ladies who have to buy new houseplants because they keep forgetting to water the ones they have, and then there’s the occasional lovestruck fool. The sales increase around holidays, especially Valentine’s day, and sometimes I get huge orders for weddings and funerals, but I don’t meet a lot of interesting people.  
That’s why I notice him as soon as he walks in.

He’s tall and lean and undeniably handsome. Everything from his ripped jeans to his almost shoulder length black hair looks out of place in a flower shop. For a second I forget that I’m helping an old lady, and she waves her hand in front of my face. I finish wrapping her bouquet and hand it to her with an apologetic smile. She doesn’t seem too mad, and she waves happily to me when she walks out the door. 

As soon as she leaves, the out-of-place man walks up to the counter. He approaches with determined steps, barely glancing at anything in the shop.  
“Hi” I say.  
“Hello” he responds, placing his elbows on the counter and leaning in over it. He smells nice, but I can’t quite place the scent.  
“What can I help you with?” I ask politely. He chuckles, as if I’ve said something funny.  
“What flowers would you give someone if you wanted to politely tell them to fuck off?”  
“I’m sorry, what?”  
“How do you say ‘fuck off’ in flower?” He smiles widely.  
I put on a professional face, determined to look like the question doesn’t affect me.  
“Well tansies, which I have over here, symbolise a declaration of war. Basil means hate-“ He tries but fails to conceal his laughter, interrupting me in the middle of the sentence.  
“I’m sorry, what’s so funny?”  
“Well, it’s just that my name is Basilton. Baz, or Basil, for short.” Then he laughs again, and now I laugh with him. Baz.  
“Do you still want to use basil in the bouquet or is that weird?”“I think it’s hilarious! Sorry I interrupted you though, please continue. How do I say fuck off with flowers?”  
“Okay so we have tansy and basil, that’s a declaration of war and hate. We could also add some rhododendron, which means beware, so that adds a threatening vibe… What more is there? Aconites mean hatred too, so maybe that’s a little overkill… Oh! Butterfly weed means ‘leave me’ or ‘let me go’ so that combined with the other flowers would probably get the message across.  
Orange lilies are hatred as well, so it really comes down to how big you want your bouquet to be.”  
Baz smiles, and I smile back.  
“I really wasn’t expecting such an educated answer… Do you just memorise flower meanings in your free time?”  
Crap, now he thinks I’m some stupid, flower obsessed nerd. I mean I kind of am, but…  
“I have some books on it, and I don’t get a lot of customers…”  
“Oh don’t worry, I think it’s adorable” he smiles. My cheeks are heating up, so I tell him that I’m going to get the flowers and quickly turn around, almost stumbling over my own feet.

I return with the flowers. Even though I’ve already spoken to him, I’m still having a hard time comprehending that he’s actually in my flower shop. He looks like he should be doing something unbelievably cool and badass surrounded by hot people and yet here he is, standing in my tiny flower shop, admiring the light pink roses on the counter. 

“I didn’t have any aconites, but I think it will work better without them anyway. Most of the flowers are orange or yellow, so combining those with white rhododendron and the basil leaves should make a nice looking ‘fuck off’ bouquet. What do you think?”  
Baz looks up from the roses and smiles again.  
“Beautiful. I’m going to love handing this over!”  
“Oh right, who are you giving it to? Will they even get it?”  
“It’s for my ex. He left me for some random guy and now he’s crawling back, like he expects me to be waiting for him or something. He’s a dickhead, honestly.”  
My heart jumps a little at the word “he”, but I ignore it and assemble the bouquet.

“Well, here you go. Good luck with the passive aggressive flower messages” I say with a smile.  
Baz stretches his hand out to take the bouquet. He’s wearing black nail polish, and my hand brushes against his when I hand over the flowers.  
“Thank you…. wait, I don’t know your name!”  
“It’s Simon. Simon Snow.”  
“Well thank you, Simon Snow.”  
“You-you’re welcome. Sorry about your ex.”  
“Oh, I was over him long ago. Besides, I think I like someone else now.”  
And with that, he leaves.

The encounter messes me up for several hours. While planting flowers and working on arrangements, all I can think about is the handsome stranger who walked in to my shop out of nowhere and asked me how to tell someone to fuck off using flowers.  
How am I supposed to focus on normal flower arrangements after that?

 

Baz returns to my shop about two weeks later. He walks up to the counter right away this time too.  
“Hello, Simon Snow.”  
“Hi Baz. You don’t have to use my full name, you know.”  
“I like it though. It’s ironic for a florist to be called Snow.”  
“Watch it, hatred.” We both chuckle.  
“Anyway, how can I help you today? More passive aggressive flowers?”  
“Not quite. Are there any flowers that say ‘I’m gay’?”  
My heart makes a little jump and I feel a faint blush spreading on my cheeks. Dammit, be professional!  
“Well it’s not a flower, but grass can be a symbol of homosexual love. Can’t really give people grass though” I say.  
Baz looks thoughtful.  
“Grass is gay, you say… Do you know all flower language or just the parts you consider relevant to your life?”  
“Well, I try to learn all I can but I guess it’s easier to remember the things that-“  
I’m already halfway through the sentence when I realise what the question implies. A lot of blood rushes to my face very quickly, and my words trail off when he raises an eyebrow at me.  
Is he flirting? Do I want him to be flirting?  
Probably.

 

Not even a week passes after that before Baz shows up again. Nobody else is in the shop, so I leave the counter and walk up to him.  
“Baz! You’re back here already? How can I help you this time?”  
“Oh, this time I’m just browsing. Is that not allowed?”  
“Sure, but you just… You don’t look like the type of guy who goes to a flower shop just to browse.”  
“And you don’t look like the type of guy who knows how to flip someone off with flowers. Looks like we’re both full of surprises, Simon Snow.”

 

Baz quickly becomes a regular, but he very rarely buys things. Sometimes he asks me about flower language but mostly he just looks at flowers and hangs over the counter, distracting me from other customers. I don’t really mind though.

 

Cedar and bergamot. That’s what he smells like. I’ve been thinking about it since the first time I met him. I figured the bergamot out after smelling a lime, and when I’m adding a twig of cedar to a flower arrangement I recognise the scent. It’s oddly pleasing to have this information, and I absentmindedly put a twig of cedar behind my ear while working. It’s there for the rest of the day.

 

I’ve almost finished redecorating the shop to a more wintery theme when the little bell by the door rings and Baz walks in. He brings a wave of fresh November air with him, and his nose and cheeks are pink from the cold. I have a feeling my cheeks might be pink too, completely unrelated to the temperature.  
“Oh!” he says when he sees the decorations. “The shop fits you better now, Snow.”  
I put down the vase I’m holding and walk up to him.  
“I’m going to take that as a compliment. Did you sense my redecoration and come to browse the new selection?”  
“Actually not, I have a proper errand today. I was hoping you could help me?”  
“Of course. What is it?”  
He smiles nervously and scratches his neck.  
“I need flowers to ask someone out with. Can you do that?”  
“Well flowers in general are usually seen as a romantic gesture so I think anything could work, really. Though if you want to be traditional, roses are a widely recognised symbol of love.”  
“One red rose then. Simple but effective.”  
I get him his rose, and he takes it with a smile.  
“Good luck with your date!” I say politely.  
“Thanks!” he responds, and then he leaves the store.

As the door closes behind him, I feel my heart sinking in my chest.  
He’s going to ask someone out. Of course he is. I should have predicted this. The awkward flower shop owner doesn’t get the guy, that’s just not how it works. I walk back to the counter and just stand there, waiting for other customers. I guess it’s time to go back to my boring old routine, full of elderly ladies and dull people. The winter decorations that looked so magical ten minutes ago seem pointless now. 

Only ten minutes pass before the door opens again and Baz steps back in to my store.  
He smiles at me, and it makes my chest hurt. Damn it, why couldn’t he be less handsome?  
“Did you forget something?” I ask, as he approaches the counter.  
“No. In fact I have something for you:”  
And then he reaches his hand out to me, and it’s holding a single red rose.  
“What do you say?” he asks with a smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: all the flower language in this fic is accurate, and I spent way too long looking up flower meanings.
> 
> As a thank for reading this, you all get some red roses. Enjoy.
> 
> And to all of you who are upset about "The End" and "Out Of Time", here's a bouquet of purple hyacinths.
> 
> If there was a flower that meant "please leave a comment" I'd use that, but there's not. So.


End file.
